After Shame Absolution
by MorganaCraven
Summary: My Body is A Cage. My Mind Holds the Key. Brandon Sullivan struggles with being detached and yet addicted to lust. Sissy Sullivan struggles with being overly attached and co-dependant. Can family pull together and free themselves of their self imposed prisons? Aftermath of their road to recovery...or their further downfall? Rated M for situations. NOT INCEST. NOT INCEST.


After Shame, Absolution

Chapter 1

_My body is a cage_

_That keeps me from dancing_

_With the one I love_

Looking at the red head in the blue light of the desolate subway tunnels he felt nothing. A numb feeling spread through his limbs in both a tortourous and gracious hold. He could no longer place where his emotions would center themselves. The flirtatious smirk she wore was almost offensive. He hated her for that smirk. His eyes were once lively like hers, lust and want running through his veins like freight train. Now he was numb, nothing in his limbs but a feeling of emptiness. The orgasms that could have granted him freedom for one night and one moment of the day were no longer enough to make him feel again. He could only now remember the blood on the white floor and upon Sissy's white skin, the sheer red reminding him of a**STOP** sign.

All of the material presence of his perversion was gone, he had made sure of it and yet the images were forever etched into his head. The lips, the skin, the open legs, the moans, the fake ecstasy that encompassed him; it was all a mental cage. Not to keep him in but keep reality at bay. He had lied to Mary Anne the night they had spoken while sipping a light wine, her caramel skin shining brightly and beautifully. He had told her he didn't believe in relationships and yet he had one. She was his sister of course but he was afraid of loving even her.

"We're not bad people, we just come from a bad place"

Here feeble voice had engrained that into his head and he had never believed it til' now. They had grown up in Jersey, a most dysfunctional family. It was now all a blur. He hardly remembered what had progressively taken him to his current way of living. The ritual of having a warm body to forget the world or use the poor substitute of his hands was his life. For only a few moments of other worldly pleasure he had spent a good few years with this constant want. How could something so basic, become a necessity…it was like the blood in his veins, like the tiny red blood cells that filled him. Every pore in his body needing and wanting sweating at the slight thought of a woman under him, above him…whatever the position, It was enough. The indescribable loathing he had felt towards himself the morning after he had found Sissy had continued through out the next day. He had just left the hospital that morning, having slept uncomfortably in a chair until her delicate hand had reached out to him. It had always reached out to him, and he had always pushed it away. A quote from a book came to his mind, that of a disfigured and demented genius, ' All I ever needed to be good, was to be loved'.

The woman stood to get off, looking at him expectantly, wanting him to chase after her like he had done the last time. His feet felt heavy, his body tired and just the thought of having sex was enough to make him feel like he already had. The want was still there but it was now subdued by the numbness of hate, guilt and anger. His eyes swept her frame lazily, knowing exactly what shade of skin her nipples would be, the freckled that would splay along her back and chest. The soft tuft of hair between her legs would be course and wet. He knew the drill in his head, he knew where to kiss and where to blow a gush of air. But all of it was nothing at all. A kiss was just a passing of saliva and a mixing of tongues and yet he could not place why it felt so sacred to him…just the intimacy of what a kiss was. The air intermingled, created an atmosphere where behind his closed lids, it wasn't a sin to feel or to love.

She got off, her high heels resounding on the concrete. He didn't even look her way. Looking down at his hands he could still feel the blood on his palms, fingers pressing into bloodied and raw flesh, trying to keep his sis alive. That night he had wanted to be in complete abandon, he didn't want to go back to his apartment, to find his sweet cissy there after what he had told her and have to stomp his pride. Instead he had decided to stomp his body. The fists that had fallen and the kicks that were given felt good, as if he was receiving his due punishment, for what? He only wish he knew. Lust and the chance to feel a single moment of euphoria had led him to a gay club where the back rooms were filled with moaning men and debauched scenery. What led him to kiss that man, to have his masculine hands and cigarette stained mouth around his cock? It was want, complete and utter want for that single orgasm. After he had finished he remembered he had shoved him away and all but ran out. Out in the streets he had wretched and dry heaved a few minutes before deciding where to go next.

Now sitting with the sickly white palms of his hands in front of him, his eyes began to water slightly. So desperate was he, so desperate, to break his standards, all boundaries gone? Yes they had all disappeared in his need to satiate. His fix. Like an addict…A slight tear fell down his hardened face as this realization hit him. His brow now knit he stood and stepped off, walking briskly to the office where he would see Mary Anne now happily talking to another man that had caught her eye. He knew it wasn't the failure to maintain an erection that had caused her sudden disappearance from his life, it was his incapability to function with the most basic of human emotions. Love…he knew he had it. He loved Cissy, albeit in very angry manner but he loved his sister. He loved David, even with all of his faults he was still his friend. He loved his job and ensuring a good contract. He was familiar with the term and could feel it, but not as passionately as Marry Anne did. Stepping into his office he sat down and turned on his computer. It had been 3 days since the recurrent sleeping over at the hospital routine happening he had barely had time to gaze upon the erotic graphics on his screen. Yet today he had not appetite to do so, his limbs felt heavy and his head pounded readily as his cell phone rang.

"Hello"

"Mr. Sullivan?"

"Yes"

"We're calling from the St Bernard Hospital, we don't want to alarm you, your sister is progressing well but it has come to our attention she hasn't received therapy before?"

"I'm afraid I don't know" he answered honestly. The years had kept them separated and frankly he barely knew the fragile and needy woman that had invaded his house so readily. ' Don't you think it's sad? That I don't know anything about my brother?', her question still resonated through his skull. It was his fault he didn't know who Sissy was anymore.

"Well I'm afraid we're going to have a closer look and have her get a lengthy therapy program, she desperately needs it Mr. Sullivan"

Silence.

"Whatever is needed to help" he whispered guiltily as he remembered he had ignored her call for help, blinded by anger and hate.

"Alright, we hope to see you soon Mr. Sullivan"

"Hmm"

"Oh, and Mr. Sullivan?"

"Yes?"

"If Ms. Sullivan receives therapy and is completely payed for, you have access to therapy for free, it's a new program the hospital is trying out…you should take advantage of it"

"Hmm"

"Goodbye Mr. Sullivan"

The receiver clicked into place as he sat in the gray light of his office. Sissy needed help now and he was willing to give it no matter what. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the concrete buildings outside, memories flooding his minds eye.

He was 10 years old and it was a cold Saturday morning, the grey gook only identified as snow stained the streets. He wanted to eagerly meet his sister downstairs to give his father a surprise. Father's day seemed like a good day to make a breakfast. Little Sissy bounced down the stairs and smiled while rubbing her eyes. There eyes lighting up as if they were up to no good. Together they had run to the kitchen and had begun to make breakfast as best they could. Sissy was 7 when that had happened. Brandon had tried very hard to not be so loud and take care that Sissy was away from the stove or the toaster.

As they had set up the plates and were ready to go up, Brandon carried the tray and was headed to the kitchen swining door when it opened violently. The tray fell towards him and in a moment, the plates and glasses that held the morning offering were broken and smeared.

"What the fuck are you doing!" the loud resounding voice of his smother echoed in the vast kitchen.

After her yelling, he had seen the red rimmed eyes and the stale smell of her breath. She had been drinking again and she was not in a happy mood. She had slapped him a couple times, making the scared child retreat to his crying sister. She was on her knees near the glass crying and holding Brandon as best she could as the woman kept yelling. He could no longer hear her voice, her mouth forming the words but no sounds.

His father had awoken to find Sissy bleeding on her knees and Brandon with a bloody nose.

Nothing had ever been the same after that. He had never received a hug from his mother, and if he did, it was impossible to remember.

"Brandon?" said John in front of him

"Yeah?"

"David told me to tell you, you get the rest of the week off"

David looked down to the keyboard, tracing the S key.

Walking down the wet streets he could hear the pat pat of the rain, his polishes black shoes clicking the cement. His eyes were cast down, he had no where to look and no place of interest to do so. The woman that passed by his side were now the mindless bodies of the prostitutes he hired before, the feeling of their skin forever lingering like a shell of grime, forever reminding him of how loathsome he was. He didn't look at the direction he was going until he was met with a bank of water. He was out on the pier again, the lapping of the water wakening him from the self-induced hazed. He raised his eyes to the grey horizon, the cold rain touching his face with small taps and rhythm

Shame was what he had felt all along.

The moment David had discovered porn in his harddrive, when he had made man suck him off…when Sissy had accidently walked in on him.

Something was wrong with Sissy and Brandon. They were broken.

Did he want to be fixed?

_My minds holds the key. Set my spirit free? Set my body free?_


End file.
